


Peanut Allergy? More Like Dean-Nut Allergy

by Adiaphory



Series: But why [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Allergic reaction, Blow Jobs, Castiel loves peanut butter, Destiel - Freeform, Hospital Visit, M/M, No Spoilers, Oral Sex, Peanut allergy, Weird Shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-05
Updated: 2016-02-05
Packaged: 2018-05-18 08:20:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5912854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adiaphory/pseuds/Adiaphory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean's allergic to peanuts and Castiel sucks deez nuts.</p><p>[Amazing prompt by friend for Dean to suffer an allergic reaction during a BJ]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Peanut Allergy? More Like Dean-Nut Allergy

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not allergic to peanuts nor did I do extensive "peanuts on dick" googling. Accuracy will be off. Probably by a lot. I hope none of you have any personal experience with this.

Dean shivered with aroused anticipation as Castiel stroked his hips, lightly running his thumbs over the bone and down to the waistband of his jeans. He was hardening up fast and Castiel was the type to take his sweet time getting to the good part.

“Cas, man, _come on_ ,” Dean groaned, trying to keep his voice steady and hide how excited he was. He couldn’t let the angel know how much he loved it whenever the dark-haired man touched him. That was girl shit.

Castiel ignored the plea and placed a ginger kiss to Dean’s stomach, right where the light trail of hair began. Dean reached to move Cas’s face out of the way and undo his pants himself but Castiel gripped his hands tightly, giving a warning look to not interfere again.

The button was popped open painfully slow and the zipper was old and difficult to open, especially with Dean’s cock pressing against it with such need. The man nearly cried in relief when his pants and boxers were pushed down to his knees and his erection was out in the open, ready for attention.

Castiel pressed his cheek against the heated shaft, earning a whine from his friend. He nosed the soft skin around Dean’s groin and trailed his head down, ignoring the cock and teasing Dean’s balls instead.

“God _damn it_ , Cas,” Dean hissed.

Castiel chuckled and ran a finger over the wrinkled skin, playing gently like he would with something made of glass. It drove Dean _insane_. Finally he lifted his head to lick the underside of Dean’s reddened cock. He lapped at it until Dean whined again, then choosing to lick with the flat of his tongue from the base all the way to the tip. He paused there at the head and licked around Dean’s slit in agonizingly slow circles. When Dean tried to rut forward he was grabbed roughly on the hips by Castiel’s inhumanly strong hands.

“No moving,” Castiel ordered. Dean moaned. He’d never admit it but he loved it when Castiel took control.

The angel took mercy, finally, and swallowed the cock down in one swift move. Dean gasped and whined and grabbed onto that dark head of hair, shivering at the warm, wet heat of Castiel’s throat. It felt amazing, as always, and even better when the angel began sucking down more and bobbing his head.

It felt amazing, like a miracle Dean had been waiting for, it was hot and sexy and—

Itchy?

Dean grunted in discomfort, torn between making Castiel stop and waiting it out. When the itching got worse and began to burn, his decision had been made for him.

“Shit, Cas, stop! _Stop_!”

The urgency in his voice was enough for the angel to slide his mouth away. He hastily wiped his drool-covered lips on his sleeve and straightened up. He gripped Dean by the shoulders and looked deep into those confused, somewhat pained eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

“I, it, my—” Dean’s cheeks were red with embarrassment and he struggled not to break eye-contact with his concerned best friend. His eyes finally trailed down and Castiel’s followed, widening when he saw the worsening state of Dean’s cock.

There were bumps forming around it and the skin was red with irritation and it looked almost swollen—though it was hard to define what were symptoms of Dean’s ailment versus his erection’s natural state.

“God, it itches,” Dean whined, grasping Castiel’s trench coat to keep himself from scratching himself. He moaned a broken noise and Castiel decided it was time to take matters into his own hands.

He gripped Dean’s pants and boxers, pulling them up shockingly fast. Dean’s head was spinning and he realized their setting had changed. No longer were they in the comfort of an empty motel room, but now just outside the doors for the town’s hospital.

Dean never looked so humiliated in his life.

Before the hunter could even protest the action with some lame excuse about never seeing doctors unless it’s life-threatening, Castiel had dragged him into the building and procured information on a clipboard to fill out.

Dean was led to a plastic waiting room chair next to Cas, where he sat down carefully and fidgeted as Castiel filled out the papers on his own.

“Dude,” Dean leaned over with a wince and saw what Castiel was writing on the forms. “Don’t use my real name! And don’t fucking write we’re here for a _sex-related incident_!”

“But it’s important for the doctors to know—”

_“We’re not telling the fucking doctors about my dick getting messed up when another dude was blowing me!”_

“I wasn’t blowing, I was sucking.”

“Cas!”

A few heads had turned in their direction for the noise Dean was causing, forcing the suffering man to shrink back while his ears burnt.

“Just let me do it,” he grunted, grabbing the clipboard and pen. He was quick to scrawl down his information and fake information, having done this enough with his and Sam’s tendencies to get seriously injured.

His feet tapped the faded tiles beneath him and he squirmed against the growing discomfort. His writing was chicken scratch to rival a doctor’s, his urgency growing as he felt more hives forming on his precious penis.

It was nearly an hour before he (and Castiel, to his dismay) was ushered to a small room. His nurse was a cute brunette who he couldn’t even look at, ready for the massive humiliation to soon follow.

The woman looked down at the exchanged clipboard and took a seat on a backless chair by a small desk with a sink and trash can built into it. “What seems to be the problem, Mr. Smith?”

Dean shuffled awkwardly on the paper-covered table Castiel had just helped him sit onto. “I, uh,” he stalled, not wanting to admit to a cute lady that his dick felt ready to fall off and die.

Luckily Castiel was more than willing to help out his favorite human. “Dean’s genitals seem to be inflamed. There are bumps and he appears to suffer from itchiness.”

Dean was absolutely mortified.

“Have you been tested recently for any STD’s?” The nurse asked, face straighter than Dean could ever pretend to be.

“I don’t have herpes,” the hunter replied with offense.

The nurse shrugged off the dismissal. “What were you doing when the inflammation occurred?”

Dean flushed.

Castiel blinked. “He was receiving oral sex. From me.”

_“Cas!”_

The nurse hid a chuckle. It was obvious Dean wasn’t the type of patient to come for help on his own or admit anything even remotely intimate. His apparent boyfriend, however, was exceedingly helpful in outing his symptoms.

“I see on your chart that you’re allergic to peanuts, Mr. Smith. Is there any chance you, say, came in contact with it? Perhaps around the same time as your sexual activity?”

“What?” Dean squinted his eyes at the woman. “Of course not, I never touch the stuff and Cas—”

The angel turned his head, avoiding Dean’s gaze for the first time that day.

Dean bit his cheek. “Why do you look guilty?”

Castiel shuffled his feet.

“Oh my god, Cas! Did you eat—did you—but you don’t even need to— _son of a bitch_!”

The nurse held the clipboard over her face and was relieved to see the two men were too distracted to hear her silent giggles. “Mr. Smith, if you drop your pants I can examine the area. If it’s an allergic reaction I can give you a little shot and send you home.”

Dean’s gaze remained trained on Castiel, his eyes narrowed to a glare. “Alright, _Doctor Quinn_ , but no funny business while you’re down there.”

* * *

“Dean, I said I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were allergic to peanuts.”

Dean said nothing.

“Dean.”

The hunter huffed and pulled the old motel blankets around his midsection tighter. After the awkward hospital visit was over, Castiel had flown them back to their motel room (thank God Sam wasn’t back yet). Dean was left to lay around, legs spread open, with some ointment that was supposed to help with the itching. He was lucky not to have a severe reaction but at this point he would have accepted death with open arms.

 _Nooo_ , instead he had to stay laid up in bed with an irritated and itchy crotch and have to soon explain to his brother what was going on.

“I should have known better than to trust you,” Dean grumbled. “You always liked peanut butter and jelly a little too much for an angel with no sense of taste.”

Castiel frowned.

“Who sucks dick right after eating anyway? Jesus, Cas.”

The door of their room opened with a jerk and the tall form of Sam was entering the room, a laptop cradled closely to his chest. He had been at the library researching the fire-based deaths of the town but found nothing until he was seventy-years deep.

“Hey,” he greeted, placing his laptop on the room’s table and with his back to Dean. “I couldn’t find anything. I thought I had a vengeful spirit but the obits didn’t give me much to work with. I was thinking of going back to speak with the family of the vic again but… why are you in bed?”

Sam had turned around in his spiel and wasn’t expecting to see his brother’s odd form on the bed. Dean cringed, hoping to get over his reaction before Sam returned.

“I ate peanut butter and infected Dean,” Castiel supplied with no emotion.

“Damn it, Cas!”

“He’s pouting at me. Sam, you may have to help him with the lotion the doctor recommended to help the itching. He won’t let me near him.”

Dean was beet-red. “Sammy, he’d exaggerating, I’m fine! Why don’t you go out and get some of that rabbit food you like so much? Like whatever the hell Kale is.”

“Wait, what happened?” Sam asked, eyebrows narrowed in concern. “Are you okay? Where did you… _oh_.” The position Dean laid in now made sense, with his legs so far apart. Sam turned his head and took note of what he missed before: a pair of jeans and boxers draped over the back of a chair.

“It’s not what it looks like, Sammy!”

“Dude.”

“He—he did my laundry! And he, uh, he—”

“ _Dude_.”

And Sam shook his head, shooting disapproving looks to his brother and Castiel. He turned around, reaching for the doorknob, needing some alone time to process the fact his brother got head from an angel… then got an allergic reaction. Right on his dick. Sam gave one last look behind him, his eyes conveying the disappointment of a thousand fathers.


End file.
